Enoch Tanner Wickham—Art and Eggs

Revised May 25, 2016.

Many people in the area where I grew up considered Tanner Wickham, known as E. T. Wickham in the art world, a bit of an odd duck during his lifetime. He was a “character,” an eccentric, but much more that escaped me and many others at the time.

Tanner, as he was known locally, is now a renowned folk artist years after his death. He lived maybe two miles north, as the crow flies, from where I was born and raised. While I never met him or even saw him as far as I remember, I heard about him often and knew exactly where several of his large concrete statues were along the gravel road that passed his farm a few miles southwest of Clarksville, Tennessee.

Tanner Wickham’s oxen staring at me in 2012, near Palmyra, Tennessee.

One of my high school classmates, Patsy Wickham (now Pat Wickham Bomba), a relative of Tanner Wickham, recommended that I look at AJ Schibig’s website for more information on Tanner Wickham. Mr. Schibig is an internationally known photographer living in Northern California, who just happens to be Tanner Wickham’s grandson! Learning this made me instantly think of the passing of art genes, or artistic abilities, within families, something that completely eluded me. AJ and Patsy are cousins, having lived close together for a time near Palmyra.

An email communication with Mr. Schibig produced a treasure trove of resources on the life and work of Tanner Wickham. You are urged to see a superb video of Tanner Wickham’s art, specifically Wickham Stone Park, which is also available for easy viewing along a roadside a short distance from where Mr. Wickham created his concrete statues.

Then there is a different story I have not found on any previous website. Several years ago a relative by marriage, Cragon Baggett, told me he had heard a funny story about Tanner Wickham. The story was that Tanner had acquired some fertilized turkey eggs, arranged them carefully in the center of his bed, and with proper padding proceeded to sit on the eggs himself pretty much around the clock to try to hatch the babies. Remembering this, I asked Cragon again a few months ago and he reaffirmed that he had heard that story but could not vouch for its truth.

So I asked Patsy if she knew anything about the turkey egg story. She did! She said the story was true, but did not know if Tanner succeeded in hatching the turkey chicks. When I asked Mr. Schibig about this, he had heard the story but suggested doubt about any eggs hatching because, as he put it, “I do know he never sat still for very long!”

As Patsy talked she called him “Uncle Tanner” because he was married to Annie, her grandmother’s sister. Patsy’s grandfather was Tanner’s cousin. So not only did she know Tanner, she knew him well and loved to visit him and her Aunt Annie.

She said Tanner loved people, loved to talk. This made me feel I had missed out in my youth by never meeting Tanner, probably out of some unease among my family and neighbors who thought Tanner was strange enough to avoid. Now I suppose this aversion I observed could have been due in part to Tanner’s frequent production of over-sized concrete statues, a habit that made him seem “different” from his neighbors, a habit that gave him some odd mystique that ordinary people didn’t quite know how to take. Again, this is a supposition; I don’t really know why Tanner wasn’t within the circle of friends my family knew.

On trips back to Tennessee I still revisit what is now Wickham Stone Park, and I will continue to do so with greater appreciation for the genius of Tanner Wickham. He was an unrecognized treasure in our midst as I was growing up.

There’s a lesson here for those of us who see people who are “different” with some sort of fear. Different is not bad, it is just different. Mark Twain extended this thought as follows: “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, and charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”

Knowing what I know now, if I could do my growing up all over again, I would have made an effort to know Tanner Wickham well. My life is poorer for not having known him personally. I wish I had.

8 comments

TANNER HAD BUILT A CLUBHOUSE ON THE SITE AND A NEW STATUE AND WAS TELLING EVERYONE TENNESSEE SENATOR KEFAUVER WAS INVITED TO THE DEDICATION ALONG WITH GEN. WESTMORELAND FROM FT CAMPBELL. EVERYONE THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A STORY. SURE ENOUGH WHEN THE DAY ARRIVED, A HELICOPTER FROM FT. CAMPBELL LANDED BESIDE THE CLUBHOUSE AND OUT CAME THE GENERAL AND SENATOR. FIRST HELICOPTER US KIDS HAD EVER SEEN . BEST I REMEMBER THEY STAYED TO EAT, SPEAK, AND TOOK OFF IN LESS THAN AN HOUR. BIG CROWD THAT DAY.
SOME OF THE THINGS I REMEMBER ABOUT TANNER: HE HAD A TEAM OF OX AND A CART AND WOULD COME TO THE STORE ON SATURDAY TO GET CORN GROUND AT THE GRIST MILL ACROSS THE STREET FROM THE STORE. THERE WOULD BE 8-10 WAGONS AND TANNER’S OX CART TIED UNDER THE SHADE TREES AND ALL THE MEN AND KIDS SiTTING ON NAIL KEGS AND DRINK CASES ENJOYING TALKING AND EATING WHILE THE CORN WAS BEING GROUND.

Jim, thank you so much for this insightful comment. I remember that one of his statues near the road was of Senator Kefauver. I regret that I never saw Tanner out with his oxcart. We lived closer to Uncle W. G. Russell’s grocery store on Highway 13, so did not get “north” to the store in Palmyra. 🙂

I was born and raised in Clarksville, my father was born and raised in Houston County, and has known Tanner all his life. He called him “Uncle Tanner” because several Parchmans and Wickhams were married. I went to Tanner’s place lots of times when I was a child, was there the day he had the unveiling of “Sitting Bull.” I have always heard the story about the eggs also. My sister-inlaw was married to Lee Wickham, whose grandfather was one of Tanner’s brothers. He has a family history book, I’ve read it several times, and it has lots of stories with Tanner in them. The Wickhams were all very good, intelligent (many say genius), very creative people. They all could write, draw, build and create anything with their hands, they were all very spiritual people. At least two of Tanner’s sisters were raised in the convent in Nashville, St. Cecilias, and became nuns. One just died last year, I have her obituary. I’ve read several interviews Tanner gave and said God sent him a vision, an “apparition” and instructed him to build certain statues. I always have and always will believe it. I’m sorry to say that by the 1970s, it was popular for couples in Clarksville to go “parking” down at Tanner’s, and many would end up getting out of their cars and vandalizing the statues. I’m glad they’ve saved what they could. Thanks so much for your blog. Carol Parchman Heck

Carol, thanks so much for your thoughtful comment with fascinating details about Tanner and his family. Just reading it is further evidence to me that I should have made an effort to get to know him as I was growing up. He lived such a rich life and enriched the lives of so many. And the world now has the documented legacy of his creative life and work, continuing to enrich.

E. B., I remember all of this story about Tanner. I was raised at Palmyra and lived right downtown for several years. My father and uncle owned the grocery store there. Tanner would come in the store often.

He once gave me a baby goat. I loved that goat as you would a dog and made a pet out of him. As he got older, of course, he got mean. My dad took him back to Tanner. Tanner killed him and barbecued him. He brought us some of the meat but we could not bear to even try to eat it.

I also remember Estes Kefauver coming to Palmyra. Everyone in the surrounding area came to hear him speak. We lived next to the store and the entire little town was full of people that day…..that was a “big” day for all of us!

Julia Dee, thanks so much for describing your colorful memories of Tanner Wickham, especially the goat he gave you! I don’t know how my family missed the Estes Kefauver visit, but we did. That had to be a very big deal at the time.